


Tasse de Thé

by thewordweaver



Series: Discontinued Kpop Works [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 15:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8332615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewordweaver/pseuds/thewordweaver
Summary: Of red jasmine tea and just a hint of chrysanthemums.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hiya hello just reposting things that I had deleted from my old old very old asianfanfics account lmao  
> I am very much not really in the kpop scene anymore so these are just here for the sake of being here
> 
> so this is one of the few series that I had started back on aff.com that bc I'm not into the kpop fandom anymore... is discontinued  
> the a/n at the very end of the work will be me explaining where I was planning on going with this story from where I stopped it to the end of it  
> it will be this way with any other kpop series that I started and shown is discontinued
> 
> date originally posted on aff.com: late 2012  
> {all subsequent notes are from then as well except for the very very last note}

“ _ This plea I sing/ for us two/ let’s spread our wings/ and make a wondrous breakthrough… _ ”

He walks down the streets of Seoul around 10pm on a Wednesday night; he revels in the peace of the city at this time as he brushes a black fringe from his eyes. He looks up to see the stars, only to find bright building windows and blinding street lights in their place.

Cassiopeia is hiding from him tonight.

As he walks by a small group of people, he readjusts his cap and sunglasses, assuring himself in the fact that he will not be recognized.

The city is relatively quiet, save for the sound of passing cars, but as he walks by a storefront, the sound of music drowns it out. He pauses in front of the café the singing emits from, raising an eyebrow curiously. Though the song sounds somewhat pop-like, it melds perfectly with the melody being played by the piano that accompanies it. What surprises him the most, though, is the fact the voice sings in English.

Too curious for his own good, he chances a peek inside. Most of the customers are gathered around the stage, where a girl stands, poised in front of the microphone as the pianist plays away on the Baby Grand behind her.

He steps in quietly, taking a seat before a waitress comes up to him, quietly asking for his order. After requesting green tea, he turns his attentions back to the girl, watching and listening intently.

“ _ We shall be/ all that we want/ do as we please/ and never be too far apart… _ ”

He notes her appearance: petite, thin build; cream-colored skin; lengthy, onyx hair; eyes the color of coffee. When she brings her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, he can see that they are slim, but her fingers are long, with her nails painted a passionate red. The color compliments her shirt: plain red, while she wears regular denim jeans, a white jacket, a white knitted hat, and white flats as well.

The waitress returns just as the girl finishes the song, the people around him clapping proudly as she bows modestly and respectfully. “Thank you," she murmurs with one last appreciative nod of her head before stepping off of the stage. She seats herself at a table not too far from him and the waitress that had served him walks up to her, a wide smile on her face. “Great work as always, Riley. And as per usual, this one’s on the house.” Riley smiles before taking a bite out of the cinnamon bun, chewing as she brings the cup to her lips and swallowing the pastry so that she can cool down the drink, blowing gently into the cup.

He does not realize he had been staring at her the entire time until she looks his way, widens her eyes, and quickly looks down to hide behind her hair.

With a light mutter of a swear, he gets up, taking his plate with him as he strolls over to her table, sitting down across from her. She peeks out from under her bangs at him before quickly staring down once again at her drink, which he has now identified as red jasmine tea.

“Can I… may I help you?” she asks timidly, but with a very noticeable element of irritation behind it, combing  the strands of hair that curtain her face before tucking her hair behind her ear again.

“For someone who had such a proud, strong voice while singing, you seem rather quiet when you speak.” When she looks his way for a split second, he can see that the scowl on her face has a tinge of embarrassment accompanying it.  She lifts her head again with a grunt, trying her lower lip as she stares off to the side, her chin propped in her hand. “Was I… did I not sing well? Is that what you’re here to tell me?” She makes a face, stealing another cursory glance at him, though it is more of a glare than a glance.

“What? No. Why would I want to be rude? I thought the song was great.”

She quirks an eyebrow now, tilting her head slightly at him. “Thanks… but you didn’t have to stare at me and sit at my table without warning just to compliment me.”

It is his turn to scowl now. “My original intention of coming to this table was to apologize for staring at you.”

“Just don’t do it again.”

An uncomfortable silence hangs over them, causing her to don her displeased expression once more. Sticking a hand into the pocket of her jacket, she pulls out a small sandwich bag of dried flowers. Picking out just the right amount of petals that fit in her gathered fingertips, she crushes them in her hand and sprinkles them into her tea. “Chrysanthemums,” she says before he can ask her, practiced in her response as she had received inquiries about it many times before. She grabs the cup by the handle and stirs it a bit before blowing into it and taking a sip.

Leaving it at that, he decides to change the subject, despite the burning question resting on his tongue that wishes to ask why she had put dried flowers in her tea. “So have you always written your own lyrics?”

“How are you so sure that those are mine?” She splits the cinnamon bun in two, biting into one half and chewing it slowly.

“It wasn’t anything I’d heard before. And it didn’t sound like a cover of a song.”

“Do you listen to English songs? For all you know, that could have been a hit single there.” He shakes his head. “Your denial says it all. On top of that, you’re tucking your hair behind your ear again.”

She glowers at him for seeing through her use. “Who are you anyway; sitting at my table so suddenly and pointing out things like you know me.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but it soon clicks shut. He contemplates telling her, looking up and off to the side in thought.

“I’ll have to save that introduction for a later date,” he tells her instead, chuckling as he finishes the rest of his tea in one swig. Standing, he pulls his wallet from his pocket and places money on the table. “Give that to the waitress.” He bows his head politely before walking to the doors.

She stares after him, blinking blankly for a moment before watching as the doors swing shut after his departure, a puzzled expression etched onto her face.

* * *

He does not return until a week after their first encounter.

When he steps in, he sees that she is staring to set up the microphone on the stage, turning away for a moment to chat with the pianist.

“So do you work here or is this just something you do for fun?”

Startled, she jumps, turning around to see him standing below, right at the edge of the stage. “Oh, you’re back,” she greets with a flat tone of voice, shaking her head as she looks to the pianist again. After telling him what key to play in, since she had forgotten to write it down on the sheet music, she turns on her heel to stare down at him again. “I just come here to sing. I don’t work here. No one would pay to hear me anyway.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d tell you my schedule, but I don’t want a nameless entity stalking me.”

He laughs, leaning back as he covers his mouth with the back of his hand.

She shoos him away with waves of her hands, tapping on the microphone gently and singing the scales so the sound technician could adjust the volume of the speakers. She has only voiced some basic notes, but already he has his head swaying a little and his foot lightly tapping to the melody of her practice song.

“This one is titled ‘Try.’ It was inspired by a close friend of mine.” The audience claps as she bows politely. Conversations become hushed, some even coming to a complete halt as the piano plays the intro. He becomes fascinated with the way her foot taps against the wood of the platform and how her hand gently pats her thigh in rhythm to the piano.

“ _ It’s not over/ it never is/ keep on fighting/ just don’t give in… _ ”

Noticing that some are singing along quietly and nodding their heads in time, he assumes that this is not the first time she has performed this song. He closes his eyes to concentrate on the quality and tones of her voice, the scales running through his mind. His foot taps to the beat as well, just like before, his head nodding along like the others.

“ _ Even if it’s something small/ something stupid or even senseless/ you have to go for it/ ‘cause it might be worth it… _ ”

His eyes open slowly once the song ends, watching as she bows in her modest way to the applause of the audience, a slightly bashful look on her face as she steps off of the stage.

Catching her eye, he motions for her to join him at his table. She blinks blankly at him for a few seconds before snorting and seating herself at a previously empty table. He sighs at her stubbornness and forces himself to stand up and walk over to her table. Plopping himself down in the chair across from her, he greets her with a nod, receiving in turn an annoyed grunt. When the waitress strides over, her eyebrows rise in surprise, giving the girl questioning look. “I have no associating with him,” she states simply.

“Do you want me to take his order too?”

She shrugs, shooting him a look before glancing away. “I don’t care, but be sure to put him on a separate bill.” The waitress stares at the two for a moment before shaking her head and pulling out her notepad. “Alright, well, I’ll just pencil in your usual order… and for you, sir?” Once she has his order down, she disappears, leaving the two to sit in their silence.

“So I saw some of them singing along quietly… that wasn’t the first time you sang that particular song for the café, was it?”

“It was,” she clarifies, tracing the patter on the table to avoid looking at him. “So then how did they…?”

“I burned some CDs.  Someone asked to record me one day and I was going to say no, but then Ji Ae…” She shakes her head. “They gave me a copy the next day and a few people asked for their own copy.” One eyebrow of him lifts curiously. “So how much did you make?”

“Like I said last week, no one would pay to hear my voice.”

“That can’t be true. They probably offered to pay you for a copy, didn’t they?” He notices her jaw working before a grimace of defeat sets on her face.

The conversation between them once again grows silent for a moment before she voices her discomfort. “Why are you even sitting here?” He considers the thought for a few seconds, then answering, “Because you’re interesting.”

Her face contorts in confusion, though she is a bit disarmed by his peculiar response. “Thanks…?” Unsure of how to interpret that, she defaults to tracing the pattern on the table.

The waitress returns with their orders, chuckling with amusement upon seeing the current scene between them. She catches the glare the performer gives her and winks, smiling wider. “Be a little more sociable, Riles.” The girl seated snorts indelicately and rolls her eyes, waiting for her to set down the plate before lifting her cup and blowing at the hot liquid. “Thanks Ji.”

After Ji Ae leaves, the pair sip at their drinks, staring around the café. Suddenly, the table shakes slightly and he glances over at her, only to see her tensing up and shifting around in her seat uncomfortably. She glances over her shoulder and he leans over slightly to follow her gaze.

Ji Ae is leaning over the service counter, staring her down. His head turns a bit as his eyes flicker back and forth between the two.  The staring-turned-glaring match lasts a minute or so before Riley sighs raggedly and Ji Ae jumps up and down, clapping her hands together rapidly and grinning victoriously.

She eyes him carefully, though there is not much to study, seeing as he wears sunglasses and a red baseball cap. The jacket he wears is a plan black and the shirt underneath is white, with some English words printed on it. When he clears his throat, she realizes that she had been studying him a little longer than she had intended.

“Sorry,” she mutters, staring down at her cup. “If you didn’t hear her earlier, my name is Riley. That’s not my real name, though, only a nickname.” Her finger runs around the rim of the cup. “So who are you, exactly? You never told me your name.”

He opens his mouth to speak before he chuckles. “Well,” he says finally, “I don’t know if I should tell you that.”

“What, are you a criminal?” Her head lifts so that she can narrow her eyes at him, leaning back in her chair to back away a little from him. “It would definitely explain some things.”

He laughs. “Not infamous, but famous.” She blinks at him in that blank way again a few times before she snorts, rolling her eyes as she picks up her cup to take a sip. “No one’s playing games here,” she mutters into her cup.”

“Neither am I.”

She becomes further perplexed by the smirk that plays on his lips.

“My name is Jaejoong. Kim Jaejoong.”

She chokes on her drink and quickly puts down her cup, slapping her hand against her chest. “I beg your pardon?” she croaks with a now-raspy voice, coughing to get the warm drink out of her windpipe. He glances around, waiting until her coughing has ceased and they are no longer being eyed strangely to slowly pull off his sunglasses.

Her eyes widen and her jaw slacks in shock. Recollecting her thoughts, she leans in, hissing quietly. “What the hell are you doing here!? What if you get caught!?” She pauses, another realization dawning upon her. “And you heard my horrible singing, oh god. And the way I’ve been treating you… I must look seem so rude now… why didn’t you say anything!?”

He cannot help but laugh at her overreaction, covering his mouth with the back of his hand like before. “Riley, relax. It’s fine. Actually, I rather enjoyed your quips. It’s not often that I’m given brutal honesty by strangers directly. As you might have guessed, people treat me differently when they know who I am, so this was refreshing.”

She runs a hand through her hair, keeping her hand on her forehead to lift the strands away from her face. “’Honesty?’ I was being completely disrespectful! I can’t believe you let me say those things to you… I’m really sorry…”

“You should be.” She freezes and he can see the bit of fear in her eyes. “You’ve completely ignored what I said. You’re starting to do what I just said everyone else does. I really hoped you wouldn’t do that. I thought you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

“Sorry.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Stop apologizing.”

“So—”

His eyebrow rises, almost challenging her.

“Okay.”

He nods once before taking the time to sip at his own drink, putting his sunglasses back on. Meanwhile, her hands fidget around under the table before producing that small sandwich bag of flowers. “Do you always put flowers in your tea?”

“Chrysanthemums,” she corrects. “And not always. Chrysanthemums help me calm down.”

“You’re taking this rather… well.” She glares at him, noting the sarcasm in his voice. “I apologize for being a fan of TVXQ and JYJ.” Both of his eyebrows are up now and her expression falls when she sees the surprise in his eyes… and the amused interest on his face.

“Don’t you  _ dare _  ask—”

“So who’s your bias?”

“Goddammit.” She puts her face in her hands for a moment before sliding them up and combing her fingers through her hair.

“So?”

“That’s nothing you need to know.” It takes a beat of silence for her to notice that that entire time, her responses had been sharp and snippy again. She exhales, palming her face. “So—”

“Don’t. Please.”

She drops her hand to peek at him, the solemnity in his tone and the hint of desperation in his eyes causing her to sigh in that defeated manner. “Alright, alright.” She shakes her head, hiding behind her cup as she drinks more tea. Without warning, the bottom of her cup makes a sharp clattering noise as it meets the surface of the table. “I can’t believe I’m sitting in front of Kim Jaejoong…” She sinks back in her chair, covering her eyes with her arm as the back of her head hangs slightly over the back of the chair. “What are the odds?”

He chuckles lightly, finishing the rest of his tea. “Thank you for today,” he says as he pushes his chair back, getting to his feet. “… You’re welcome?” She pushes herself up to sit up straight and stare strangely at him as he opens his wallet, leaving money on the table. He flashes her a smile, waving as he departs.

After he leaves, Riley makes the mistake of glancing over her shoulder, catching the perverse grin and the way Ji Ae waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh piss off.”

**Author's Note:**

> original end notes:  
> hey guys how's it going  
> all of the lyrics {which can be identified by the way the words are italicized and the slashes used to represent the breaks in lines, if you hadn't noticed} did not come from me, but from Li  
> I'm just merely giving credit where credit is due; I probably won't be making any other author's notes after this one, haha
> 
> very very last note lmao:  
> ok so once again Li is an ex friend of mine blah blah blah we've been through this song and dance already  
> for this story in particular if you want more details on what was gonna happen to start where I left off I'd have to like email you everything that was written in the notebook I designated for this lmao  
> it's a lot  
> and also uses Li's work so we'd have to find some way to link all of it back to her so  
> yeah
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


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